


The Mile High Club

by TrilesForMiles



Category: Degrassi
Genre: M/M, Mile High Club, Plane, Smut, happy birthday christina, triles, yaasss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-24
Updated: 2015-01-24
Packaged: 2018-03-08 20:40:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3222734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrilesForMiles/pseuds/TrilesForMiles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Miles needs a distraction, and Tristan knows just how to help. Oneshot. Smut. A gift fic for the fabulous Christina's birthday! :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Mile High Club

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Although it is incredibly late, this fic is dedicated to the fantastic Christina! I promised you some mushy Triles smut for your birthday and damn, did I deliver.
> 
> I really hope you enjoy this story love. Thank you for being a part of my life these past few months as I dove headfirst into the world of Triles shippers. Our conversations on Tumblr and group chat have been some of the best. You've been responsible for so much inspiration for my stories, ships, and headcannons...asexual Hunter...bottom Miles...GRACEVAS. (Okay, well that one wasn't entirely you, but you had a hell of a lot of influence) And I - as well as many other members of the fandom, I'm sure - have appreciated all your contributions on the different social medias. We're all really lucky to have you.
> 
> Happy late birthday! :*

Half open eyes met the face of Tristan's wristwatch just as the hands ticked over to 12 and 4. It was the perfect time for binge watching Buffy reruns, mid-night snacking, or continuing a well deserved sleep cycle. But if there's one thing a person shouldn't be doing at 4am, it's wearing a suit. Yet this realization only hit Tristan's mind because he was doing just that. The night sky was still dusted with stars and yet he was dragging his feet up the Hollingsworth's front driveway in his best formal attire. When Miles had asked him to accompany him along with his family to this hot shot event, he nearly jumped at the opportunity. His imagination instantly filled with images of them sneaking champagne into those oddly shaped glasses and posing arm in arm for press photos among other fancy people. He just wished he'd been warned then that being fancy required him to be awake before the sun. Right now, all he looked forward to was napping on the plane.

The massive front door swung open before the bell had even finished its chime revealing an alarming version of Winston. His hair was freshly cut and sporting a copious amount of hair gel to slick it down properly. The bright white shade of the dress shirt and bow tie peeking out from his opened jacket contrasted greatly against the jet black color of his suit. For what seemed to be the first time since Tristan had met him, the lenses of his glasses were free of finger marks and various smudges. With the lack of wacky patterns and pants that actually fit him properly, Winston didn't look half bad. But what was really unsettling was the amount of excitement in his face.

"Boy am I glad to see you!" Winston's words came with a burst of energy that was much too powerful for the that time of day.

His frail hands met Tristan's shoulders and practically pulled him through the threshold. The blonde raised a suspicious eyebrow as he studied the positively giddy boy before him. It was no secret that Winston wasn't exactly Tristan's number one fan. Paired with the fact that it was four in the fucking morning, he knew the magnificent smile across the Asian's face knew something was awry. He followed Winston further inside and instantly scanned the surroundings to see if he could spot the missing link. He spotted Frankie looking as gorgeous as ever in a tasteful white dress that still managed to cling to her budding curves. She was balanced skillfully on wedged heels as she stood behind a chair at the kitchen table, busying herself with curling the hair of the girl seated before her. Tristan had to blink a few times before he recognized Arlene in the stunning steel gray ensemble. She matched perfectly with her boyfriend who was seated across from her, completely engrossed in something on his iPad in the typical Hunter Hollingsworth manor. Damn, everyone sure as hell knew how to clean up nicely.

He felt himself flush with anticipation as he began to wonder how flawless Miles looked in comparison with everyone else. But his hopes were soon deteriorating as he saw his boyfriend in pursuit of his mother in nothing more impressive than his faded pajamas and a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. He was clutching a thermometer in one fist for dear life, his arm extended toward the woman who clearly wanted nothing to do with it.

"See mum?" Miles called after her in the most unconvincing congested voice Tristan had ever heard. "This says 98 degrees! I'm burning up!"

His mom let out a frustrated sigh before whipping around to rip the plastic contraption out of Miles' hand. She studied it for a moment then rolled her eyes before returning to her previous path.

"That's degrees Fahrenheit, Miles. Which - if you would actually pay attention in school - you would know converts to 37 degrees Celsius. Also known as the average human body temperature. You're fine!"

"Is Miles sick?" Tristan questioned with obvious dissapointment as he watched Miles continue to race after his mom.

Of course he cared for his boyfriend's well-being. It would be completely rude for him to disregard Miles' potential problem. After all - what are relationships for if not looking after the one you love? His earlier thoughts were momentarily swept away as he imagined what could actually be coming of this weekend if that was true - home made soup, cheesy movies, and tired cuddles on the couch that lasted all day. It wasn't a terrible way to end up, but he couldn't help but remain saddened by the thought of not being able to attend this classy event he had been looking forward to for so long.

"Not unless it's suddenly a classified illness to be a total pansy!" Winston cupped his hands around his mouth at the last bit and turned his head to send his magnified insult in Miles' direction.

"Okay...I'm not following." Tristan turned to Frankie to settle his confusion, knowing she would get straight to the point.

A smirk spread across her cherry red lips as she released a perfect spiral of Arlene's dark hair from the barrel of the curling iron, letting it fall daintily against her shoulder. When her gaze flicked up to Tristan's he noted the gleam in her eyes that followed.

"Miles is scared of flying." She announced before the news suddenly became boring again and she turned her attention back to the half-finished masterpiece before her. "This happens any time we take a trip. He plays along until the last minute to try to protect his precious masculinity and then comes up with whatever dumb excuse he can find not to have to board the plane."

As the morning continued it was filled with the recollection of other ridiculous schemes Miles had used to avoid his fear in the past. The laughter from the twins and Winston that followed every story they told rang throughout the air no matter how hard Tristan tried to tune it out. He didn't necessarily view Miles' phobia as a bad thing, though it did take him by surprise. Of course everyone has a hidden fear but he had always expected his boyfriend's to be something more robust like poisonous snakes or death-defying stunts. Miles had been dragged along to these high society soiree's since he was a kid. Tristan would have figured any apprehension he had towards planes would have dissipated by now.

When Miles finally joined the group it was just long enough for Tristan to greet him with a warm kiss and gush over how precisely color coordinated their suits were before it was time to depart. Even while still outside, the tension radiating through the air around Miles would have been too thick to cut. Tristan stood beside him silently, waiting for some sort of sign as to what Miles wanted. The last thing he needed was to aggravate his boyfriend before being stuck with him all day.

"I'm just glad Tristan's here to hold Miles' hand this time!" Winston shouted behind him with tease as he and Frankie raced through the entrance first.

Miles' jaw locked in frustration, a hard stare sweeping over his dark eyes. Tristan hesitantly reached for his hand, resting his fingers atop of Miles' own as he turned to face him.

"He's not wrong, you know." Tristan assured him in the easy tone that could always make Miles' heart swell. "Ignore those...ugh, juveniles. Everyone's afraid of something."

Miles said nothing but turned his palm over to allow Tristan's fingers to intertwine with his. From there he let Tristan drag him aboard, holding his breath with every reluctant step. The four teens aboard who weren't strangers to the Hollingsworth jet watched in amusement at Arlene and Tristan's awestruck reactions. They turned slowly in every direction, eyes as wide as saucers as they attempted to absorb every detail of their new luxurious surroundings. The cabin of the plane seemed to stretch on farther than they could even scope out, separated from the back part of the plane by heavy glass doors. Directly before them were eight leather seats - two pairs to each side - that faced what could possibly be the largest television screen in all of Canada. It barely left room for the narrow opening beside it, which Tristan assumed led to the cockpit. The space between the seats and the larger set of doors was mostly bare, with a low set table directly in the middle. To the right was a small couch made from the same mocha colored leather as the seats and adorned in inviting throw pillows. A set of deep shelves took to the left, which they learned later on were there to keep everyone's bags out of the way.

"This jet is nicer than my house." Arlene swooned and Tristan nodded in agreement before practically tumbling into the last set of chairs.

He scooted down to the window leaving Miles to plop down next to him in the seat along the aisle. The blonde instantly began fiddling with a remote control that laid on the arm rest between them. The buttons moved his seat up and down, forward and back to an incredibly flat recline. He slammed another button and watched as Miles' seat began to lower to his level. The brunette offered him a weak smile and popped the arm rests up, removing the barrier between them.

"This will make it way easier to snuggle." Tristan tried as their eyes met in a familiar comfort. "We can just rest the whole flight. I won't even complain about your snoring."

"Ha ha. I don't snore." Miles spat back with fraudulent spite before releasing a shaky breath. "But I'm way too anxious to fall sleep, Tris."

"Oh." Tristan raised their seats back to their original state, trying to hide his brief flash of dissapointment. "Well we can still cuddle. Maybe watch a movie?"

His fragile hands gestured to the gargantuan TV before them that as far as he knew, had yet to be claimed. He was fully aware that the other couples would be willing to fight them tooth and nail over film choices. Honestly he didn't mind what took place, as long as Miles wasn't caught up in this constant state of worry. Seeing that his suggestions didn't get much of a rise out of him he began to fire off anything else he could think of.

"Or we could play a game? I have that ridiculous Ellen DeGeneres game on my phone. You'll love it."

Silence.

"...We can just stare out the window and look for shapes in the clouds?"

Nothing.

"...Laugh at all the ridiculous novelties offered on Sky Mall? Take some super adorable selfies for Hastygram?"

If Tristan didn't know better, he'd assume Miles was deaf.

"...Sneak off to the bathroom and roll a few joints?"

Now that one caught Miles' attention. He turned to Tristan with a furrowed brow that quickly went away when he caught the joking glimmer in his lover's expression. He could no longer hold back a laugh - though small, it was genuine and more emotion than Tristan had seen from him all day. Miles knew he could always count on his boyfriend to shed light on his darkest of moods. He couldn't help but feel slightly guilty that Tristan had to go through this with him. Truth be told, if he hadn't been there Miles would have fought a lot harder to stay home. But when he saw the brief glimpse of tired-eyed Tristan patiently waiting in his dining room in a suit at that ungodly hour, he knew he couldn't let him down.

"Hmm, tempting." Miles' played along, keeping the newly formed smile plastered across his face. "Don't let me ruin your time, Tris. You can sleep. I'll be fine."

They both knew how unconvincing his declaration sounded, but just as Tristan was about to protest they were interrupted by an unfamiliar voice booming through the cabin. The speakers crackled as they came to life but the message for all Hollingsworth's and guests to remain seated for take-off was loud and clear. Tristan watch his boyfriend's body grow stiff as he buckled his seatbelt, a slew of foul words muttered under his breath. After securing his own restraint Tristan was quick to offer his hand back to Miles, which he graciously accepted.

"Forget where we are. Just focus on me." Tristan coaxed as he tried to refrain from squealing under Miles' crushing grip as the vehicle began rolling forward.

"I guess you're a decent distraction." Miles teased to his best ability, trying not to let his faltering lips break his grin.

As the wheels began to spin faster beneath them the ride remained surprisingly smooth, allowing Tristan to get away with pressing his lips kindly against the other boy's. Although he was caught off guard, Miles still found himself melting fully into the kiss. He ignored the increasing vibrations as best he could, not letting the warmth of his lover's lips leave him until the sharp incline of the plane forced them apart. Their eyes remain locked as their backs stayed pressed tightly against their seats through the climb. Tristan watched as Miles swallowed hard, his breathing deeper than normal with a mix of breathlessness from the kiss and heightened anxiety. Words weren't needed to make it clear that neither were ready for their lip lock to end. That's when it hit Tristan - he knew just what to do to help his boyfriend relax.

"Hey babe?" He questioned with his best innocent demeanor, his voice growing quiet as the roar of the engines silenced mid-air. "What do you guys usually use this plane for?"

"Uhh, taking trips? Usually somewhere related to my dad's campaign like this one." Miles answered with a perplexed chuckle brought on by his boyfriend's unusual question. "Sometimes my dad uses it to impress people who could have any sort of influence on the election. Why?"

"Ever thought about using it to...Oh, I don't know...join a club?"

"What? Like one of those stuck up aviation societies or something? I don't think this thing would exactly fit in there."

"I was thinking something a bit more exclusive." A cheeky grin spread through Tristan's lips as he dropped Miles' hand to let his own rest on the other's inner thigh. "Like the Mile High Club?"

"Isn't that when you have sex on a -" Miles caught himself before his question was finished, taking on an astonished smirk as he realized what the blonde was implying. "Oh? Seriously, Tris?"

"You did say I'm a good distraction..." The unmistakable hint of lust spun throughout his voice as he began to stroke the spot where his hand rested.

More words were exchanged but honestly the moment passed in a blur as they waited for the okay to remove their seat belts. The two peered around the cabin to determine if they could sneak away without suspicion. Frankie and Winston were already drifting asleep in their seats. Hunter and Arlene had taken over the table, their backs turned to the same sex couple as he watched her play some Medieval era game on her laptop. Miles then informed Tristan that his parents were behind them in the separate wing of the plane behind the doors, and it was incredibly unlikely they'd be out until landing. This was all the encouragement Tristan needed to take his boyfriend by the arm and start dragging him towards the bathrooms. Miles wasn't one to turn down sex, but he was incredibly hesitant to get up with the plane in motion. But Tristan's persistence was solid enough to pull him right up his feet and down the aisle.

They pushed their way through the heavy glass doors and into one of the two bathrooms the vehicle held. The door automatically locked shut behind them with a loud click that made them both jolt in anticipation. Tristan wasted no time to dive into his boyfriend's arms fusing their lips together in a kiss so amorous it seemed to stop time around them. Miles' shaky arms enveloped around his slender waist, closing all space between their bodies. He felt the weight of his boyfriend's strong hands meet his biceps as if he was anticipating his escape. Even through the thickness of his layers the touch set fire to his center. Their lips molded together without flaw, pliant and slow with no sense of demand. They worked as one, neither having the energy to claim dominance over the other. As the familiar light-headed sensation hit the brunette it no longer mattered where they were or what dangerous situations could arise. All that mattered was him and his boyfriend, caught up in this world of their own where every breath and every whimper was a shared occurrence. Their tongues and lips coaxed each other, swallowing all of Miles' angst to replace it with an overwhelming desire.

The space they inhabited was small, making it simple to take in the details that would usually go unnoticed like the inebriating mix of their colognes or how quickly the air around them began to steam. Tristan was the first to attack that problem, his nimble fingers closing around the lapels of Miles' open jacket. Slowly, he pushed he piece off of his broad shoulders. He could feel Miles' jubilant beam against his own pout as he moved his arms behind him and began to wiggle about to help the removal. He was determined not to set their lips apart and although it was challenging, they managed to get the navy blue garment to the floor without a single break. Miles was quick to reach for his body once more, already missing the feeling of having Tristan so close. Disappointment washed over him like tide to the shore when he found Tristan peeling off his own blazer. The release of compressed air made a puckering noise as Miles pulled back for the first time, allowing them to remember how to use their lungs.

"What gives?" He asked in a breathless annoyance, his face still lingering close enough to catch the sparkle in the other's cerulean eyes as they cracked open.

"I thought you'd wanna get to the fun stuff faster."

The jacket was thrown to their feet, now crumpled and insignificant. Tristan's flirtatious response came so naturally it nearly seemed rehearsed. Fingers were now strewn through Miles hair, admiring the way he managed to keep it so conditioned yet simultaneously unruly. A quiet groan could just barely be noted before Miles' spoke again.

"Mmm. Can't argue with that." He nuzzled Tristan's nose with his own before dipping down to catch his earlobe between his lips.

He sucked on it gently, knowing the area was particularly sensitive for the blonde. Tristan gasped, pushing against his boyfriend in encouragement. But Miles couldn't stay in one spot for long. He allowed his mouth to spill down Tristan's jawline, the light trace of stubble scratching against the tender skin before reaching the smoothness of his neck. He lazily pulled at Tristan's bow tie until it loosened, brushing it away like dust. So slowly, he released the buttons to his collar from their holes and continued to pepper kisses down the newly exposed flesh.

Tristan swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry. Distant, hushed moans left his tumid lips between pants, drawing all needed strength away from his fluttering eyelids. His hands twitched with need as they unsteadily ran down his lover's spine to the front hem of his dress shirt. Unlike Miles he moved fast, his clouded judgement from the heat of the moment leaving his strategy unorganized. Working from the bottom, he pulled at the fabric around each button for no more than a few seconds - only wanting to deal with the ones that popped open with ease. He would return to struggle with the rest in the end. He moved in a frantic desperation to get Miles undressed, fighting against the pleasurable sensation as his mouth traveled over Tristan's collarbone and down his partially uncovered chest. The string of clasps seemed to drag on forever. So long, that Tristan couldn't hold back a sigh of frustration as he finally reached the top and began to toy with Miles' neck tie. Still, he tugged it off with ease allowing the other boy's hairless torso to be revealed in all its glory.

Miles forgot about undressing Tristan for a moment to help him clear away the opened shirt. As his hands busied with that he let his focus drop to Tristan's nipple. His breath was hot and wet around the delicate ring as he carefully took it in his mouth. His tongue lashed out kindly over the center, causing the already rigid bud to grow that much more so. Tristan's back arched involuntarily as he let out a shattered huff, every sense in his body affected by Miles' actions. Feverishly, he ripped the sleeves off from around Miles' wrists and added to their blossoming pile of discarded clothing. Splayed fingers met Miles' bare flesh, roaming anywhere and everywhere they could just to feel. They traced the outline of his abdominal muscles, ran over his pulsating pecs, rubbed up and down his arms, stroked around the nape of his neck. Vicious chills surged through Miles' veins as the warmth of Tristan's touch contrasted with the coolness of his freshly uncovered body. His hands flew back to Tristan's own shirt, moving to appreciate his other nipple as he worked the rest of the buttons apart. As he reached the last one, Miles' hand grazed Tristan's visible bulge ever so lightly. The movement was so fluid, he would have assumed it was an accident if he didn't know Miles better.

Tristan pushed against Miles' sternum to bring them back to the same level as soon as he was set free. Their bare chests crashed in time with their mouths, a mutual moan humming in their throats. Miles' arms wrapped tightly around Tristan's strong back, but Tristan's were nowhere near through with their journey. They grazed softly down either side of his spine, moving inwards until they connected at his backside. He palmed Miles' behind through his trousers, reveling in the way the contact lifted the other boy up on his toes. A dense, scorching hunger burned deep in the pit of Miles' stomach. He turned away from the kiss, nudging up against the concaved space between Tristan's ear and jawbone.

"Did you bring-?" He spoke against his boyfriend's face, his shallow breaths deepening his voice.

"Back pocket." Tristan's confident reply came before the question was even through. "Snuck them out of my bag before we came in here."

Miles steadied one hand on Tristan's hip while the other sunk into his pocket, finding precisely what he was hoping for. He gathered the contents into his hand and set them down on the counter-top beside them. The blonde had already begun his next adventure -snaking the leather belt around Miles' waist free from its buckle and loops. By the time Miles returned to their embrace Tristan was already casting Miles' pants down his legs. He stepped out of them with ease before connecting with his lover once more. These kisses were deeper, more needy than before - both boys making a conscious effort to disconnect and reconnect their mouths with each take. Tristan dragged Miles' lower body to his, grinding his hips up against him. The brunette took in a sharp breath at the feel of his boyfriend's erection against his own. Even with the barriers still between them, they could both make out every inch of the other's cock. Reluctantly Miles backed his pelvis away from Tristan's only for the sake of removing his pants. One hand unlatched his belt while the other brought down the zipper, using as little time as possible to get the job done. He sank down to his knees as he pulled the pair down Tristan's thin legs, his eyes instantly zoning in on the outline of his dick through his tight boxer briefs.

With one hand resting on the waistband of Tristan's underwear, the other rose up to the counter top to feel around aimlessly. In his mind it took much too long for his fingertips to reach the foil packet - although the search lasted no more than a few seconds. Tristan peered down at him - breathing depthless, expression soft. He felt a crimson blush dance over his cheeks as Miles looked up at him from the floor, eyes locked as he cautiously opened the wrapper. The mere sight was so arousing his cock practically leaped out of its confines as the last article of clothing pooled at Tristan's feet. One hand snaked its way around his waist, clenching at his bare bottom. The other was being used to skillfully pinch the air out of the condom.

Anticipation stirred in Tristan's core as Miles just barely placed it over the tip of Tristan's throbbing member. With his hand dropping to the base for support, Miles let his mouth drop over the rubber and roll it down his boyfriend's shaft. He moved incredibly slow, taking it as deep into his throat as he could before letting his hand take the rest. Tristan's head rolled back in satisfaction, the pleasure filled noise emerging from his vocal chords like beautiful music to Miles' ears. His sweaty hands found home at the back of Miles' head, gripping tightly to steady himself as he felt his entire being begin to deteriorate. Miles groaned lavishly at Tristan's response, the vibrations bringing a magical sensation to the heavy appendage between his lips. He met the head with a plethora of kisses, not yet ready to miss the feeling against his mouth. But he knew if he sucked Tristan of now then sex was not in their near future. And truth be told, he was a bit selfish. He knew the moment Tristan took him it would be enough to erase all traces of dread from the day.

So with only a partial reluctance he rose to a stand. He greeted the waiting lips with a sweet kiss before taking the bottle of lubricant off the counter and placing it in Tristan's palm. His thin fingers curled around it deviously. The gaze exchanged between them was one only they could understand - a mix of true adoration, arousal, and trust that could make the strongest man weak. The effect made Miles' painfully aware of his own penis, begging just as fiercely as Tristan's to be touched. In a single rapid movement, Miles' boxer briefs vanished. Tristan's gentle hands latched around his forearms and guided him backwards until his naked backside swept against the door.

He lifted his hips and widened his stance a bit, allowing Tristan's arm to wrap around his waist. One slick finger teased at his entrance, drawing a nervous giggle out of the brunette. It soon turned into a muted whine as Tristan pressed into him. His lids fell shut, his mouth growing slack as he tried to relax his tightened muscles. The mild sting began in time with Tristan's slow movements, each one seeming to plunge deeper and deeper. But by the time a second finger was added the pain was replaced with the desired thrill. The pad of his fingers brushed Miles' sensitive prostate, causing him to nudge his hips forward with a swallowed cry. Tristan chuckled under his breath, his fingers teasing the bundle of nerves as he brought his forehead against Miles'.

"You ready?" His voice was as soft as silk, and Miles' didn't need any time to think before responding with a shallow nod.

Tristan's hands on his hips rotated him so he was facing the door. Miles high-fived the wall above his head to keep himself steady. Carefully - as if he worried he might break him - Tristan tugged Miles' rear end backwards against his hardened member. Miles drew a sharp breath as the tip broke through him, expanding sacred ground. It hurt, but it was a good pain. The kind that kept you crawling back for more. He rolled back in a silent encouragement and Tristan's movements resumed.

God, Miles was tight. Tristan knew this very well but it still never ceased to amaze him as he slid into the snug space. The feeling always made him shudder with awakening. A few more timid thrusts and his own head was sinking back. Sounds of bliss nipped at their eardrums in various forms of gasps and groans. Their collective soundtrack had never sounded so elegant. The space between Miles' front and the door was plenty, permitting Tristan to take a hold of Miles' cock with a lubricated hand. Miles gulped, the other boys name bouncing off his tongue as he began to stroke him off. His breathing quickened as he lost himself in the combination, his skin flushing with blotches of pink as the fire inside him grew rapidly. He felt almost anesthetized as he tried to shove himself further into Tristan's unhurried wrings without much progress. The warmth of his palm was so comforting, so welcomed. He twisted around as he stroked the length, being sure to stimulate every inch. Tristan's drives found an easy rhythm that him and Miles could both sway to even as he plunged deeper in time. He knew by Miles' animated wheeze exactly when the tip of his cock skimmed his lover's prostate. With a twitch of his hips he kept that angle, driving Miles crazy with the sexual excitement. The blonde groaned as his own pleasure skyrocketed due to Miles' acknowledgement. Nothing got him off quite as effortlessly as knowing Miles was satisfied.

Miles' could feel himself slipping - though his senses were so overwhelmed he couldn't tell if it was his body, his mind, or both. He just knew he was spiraling towards the end at a pace so fast there was nothing that could stop it. In that moment, a particularly deep nudge allowed Tristan to pepper his spine with feather-light pecks. Even then he was so tender with Miles. They weren't fucking. They were making love - a sweet, sweet love that had managed to numb Miles' mind to the point where even his greatest fear had disappeared. It was that realization - mixed with the shock of Tristan repeatedly hitting his prostate and the steady pumps of his smooth flesh against his dick - that caused Miles' knees to quiver greatly as his body surrendered. The orgasm ripped through his entire body causing every nerve, muscle, and bone to convulse. The sex fluid flowed graciously over Tristan's hand with some landing on his own stomach and even on the door. It was warm and thick as it dripped down Tristan's fist, still moving to milk Miles through his demise. His walls clenched completely around Tristan, hurdling him closer to his own climax. Miles' legs threatened to give out on him but Tristan was quick to hold him up.

"Shhh. Baby, please...I'm so close." Tristan's whisper pleaded him to keep going, the desperation clinging to every word.

Miles' head dropped as he tried to gather what little strength he had left and send it towards his trembling hips. He moved with Tristan, back and forth at the same continuous momentum. Tristan's face contorted - eyes scrunched, teeth clenched, cheeks wrinkled - as he climbed to his fate. He reached his peak on with an inward motion, a loud sob spilling through the room as he did the same inside of Miles. The condom filled with his cum, cumbersome around his aching dick. With a shaky breath he moved out of Miles, turning him around. Exhaustion hung over him like a rain cloud, the lopsided, open smile on his face sticking out against it like a sore thumb. As slow as sloths, they disposed of any evidence and searched through their matching clothes to try to determine which articles belonged to whom. It was such a bittersweet moment as they returned their clothing onto their bodies. It meant their intimate moment had come to an end, but it also signified that it started in the first place.

Once everything was back where it should be they tip-toed out both sets of doors and back into the cabin. They held their breath as made their appearances, trying to prepare an excuse in case they got caught. Thankfully, their relief led for a speedy exhale at the sights they saw. Frankie and Chewy were exactly where they'd left them, fast asleep with him slumped against her shoulder. Hunter and Arlene had moved to the couch for their own catnap - embracing loosely under a blanket with his chin resting on her head.

Tristan couldn't ignore the laziness in Miles movement, so different than when they'd boarded. He waited until they took their seats, Miles appearing seconds after Tristan sat down with another blanket to ask the question that weighed heavy in his mind.

"Sooooo, how do you feel now?"

"Sleepy." Miles responded with the inflection of a child, grabbing the remote to adjust their seats as far back as they could go.

Silently, he draped the cover over them both and nestled up against Tristan. The blonde scooted closer, letting their bodies mold together in whatever way worked. He had no idea when he actually fell asleep, or which one of them passed out first. The next memory he had was of a familiar voice breaking his slumber, forcing his heavy eyes to blink awake.

"I'll be damned." Winston muttered with a surprised jeer, shaking his head in disbelief.

Upon seeing Tristan stir he paused, waiting for the boy to be coherent enough to respond. He went to stretch his arms out but upon realizing he was still cuddled up with Miles, he let them be. Another blanket had been cast over them, which he quickly recognized as the one previously taken by Hunter and Arlene. A glance around the cabin helped him spot them on the opposite side, laughing at whatever movie was playing on the ginormous television. Frankie was beside them, joining in with her own familiar cackle. He found Winston in the seat directly in front of him and Miles, peering over the back.

"How the hell did you manage that?" The black haired boy spoke up again, jerking his chin towards the still dormant Miles'. "And can you teach me how to do it? Might come in handy."

Tristan grinned something wicked, knowing the truth would surely stir an interesting reaction out of Winston. But he decided to keep the mystery alive.

"Sorry, Chewy." The playfulness in his voice was borderline sass as he stole Miles' affectionate nickname. "It's a secret...club members only."

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Yay, that was fun! I have to admit - this idea came to me so long ago but turned out to be one of the most difficult fics to write. I think it's because I'm not really familiar with the sexual style of love making to be honest. The rougher, more greedy smut comes a lot easier to me. If I have a single romantic bone in my body, it's incredibly small and hasn't had much effect over the last 21 years :P
> 
> But the challenge of writing their sex this way was never uninteresting, that's for sure. Perhaps I need to try this style again in the future.
> 
> Also, fun fact! This was the first fic I've written where they actually have intercourse! We all knew it was coming ;P (Pun intended)
> 
> Thanks for reading, everyone! I'd love to hear some feedback!


End file.
